


Drawing Squares Around You - [1/1]

by nahemaraxe (zephyrina)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyrina/pseuds/nahemaraxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a repost</p></blockquote>





	Drawing Squares Around You - [1/1]

**Drawing Squares Around You**  
(2,378) // (NC-17)  
Bob Bryar/Ray Toro  
Just two men on a railroad trip across America.  
The guys aren't mine, it never happened.  
Written for the [Porn Battle IX](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/tag/challenge:+porn+battle), prompt 'Bob/Ray, domestic'. Inspiration comes from [these](http://syndicated.livejournal.com/lacygaminepic/80270.html) [pictures](http://www.flickr.com/photos/mateugrin/3880573251/). ♥ to [](http://framianne.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://framianne.livejournal.com/)**framianne** for her help, patience and beta job. Thank you so much.  
Domestic (and porn) on the road piece.

 

*

“What time is it?”

Ray holds up his arm, so that Bob can check his watch. The train is almost empty – their car is, at least – and that’s why they’re lying on the seats with their legs dangling in the aisle; if someone comes, they’ll get up and sit straight, pretending to be polite travelers again, but right now they can’t really be bothered. Besides, Ray thinks as he shifts around a little, the way the train’s moving is lulling him to sleep. He yawns, feeling tired all of a sudden.

“Sleep, come on,” says Bob is that moment, reaching out to give him a light punch on the shoulder. “We still have two hours to go before getting there, and then a four mile walk to reach the hotel.”

“Here’s to hoping that they’ve got better mattresses. My back will never recover from last night, I’m sure.”

“You know, if anyone around here were eavesdropping, they’d think we had-- uh, acrobatic hardcore sex or something.”

“Haha, no, just a shitty bed. But maybe tonight?” Ray says, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure. Truth be told all the sex thoughts are well and far away from his mind right now, but he can’t let a good chance slip. “What say you?”

“Yeah, minus the acrobatic. I love you and all that jazz, but I don’t really feel like--” hands waving “--getting stuck in the furniture or shit like that.”

“Yeah, and the hardcore, too. Unless I missed the memo about you planning to branch out into the S&M world?”

“No, not really.” Bob laughs. “I’m just your average, boring vanilla guy.”

Smiling fondly, Ray pulls up the map and starts circling places – a circle means ‘to visit’, a square means ‘wow, cool’ and a triangle means ‘shit, never again’ – on it. Given that they’re more or less in the middle of their trip, the map is already half filled with symbols, and Ray’s pretty sure that it’ll be unreadable by the time they get back home. It doesn’t really matter, though. Planning stuff is fun, and even more so when he finds tiny post-it notes attached here and there with Bob’s comments, _oh, please, that was shit_ or _fuck yeah, cool._

“You dick,” he says when a new note falls on his face from a folded section of the map. “We’re gonna have post-its everywhere.”

“Why, are you keeping them?”

“Of course?”

“Lovestruck packrat.” Bob shakes his head. “ _Sleep._ Didn’t you say you wanted to go visit that mansion in the afternoon? You’re never gonna leave our room if you don’t catch some sleep first. Come on, don’t be so difficult.”

“Alright, alright,” Ray answers, setting the map aside. “Just don’t wake me up when we’re entering town like last time. Gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“Because you’re a pussy,” says Bob philosophically, nodding.

*

Bob does wake him up when the train is about to reach both the town and the station again, but rather than bitching about it, Ray just makes sure to swap their backpacks. They’re identical except for the fact that Bob’s is way lighter – Ray keeps his camera and the tripod in his own – but when he notices the additional weight, he already has it on and the train is almost coming to a halt, so he has no choice but carry it.

Admittedly, listening to him rant about it during the entire walk to the hotel is pretty rewarding.

They check in around noon, and for once the hotel (which is an old wood and brick cottage converted into a hotel) is exactly as the ad promised; throughout their trip they learned that ‘spacious room’ is a synonym for ‘hold your breath and maybe you can fit in together’ and that a ‘luminous place’ may mean that their room actually faces a big neon sign. Luckily this is not the time, and while Ray follows Bob upstairs, he can already picture a square around the town’s name. Maybe a post-it to go with it, too.

They got the attic, a room with askew walls and two round windows facing a wheat field.

“Wow. This is so country-style like,” comments Bob, dropping the backpack on the bed.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is rustic.”

“I live with a cultured man. Isn’t that great?”

“Totally,” says Ray, just to reach over and whack Bob on the head. “Stop fucking with me.”

“Actually, how about--”

“How about you’re gonna keep your dick tucked in until later? I’m hungry and then, look out,” says Ray, turning to tap his finger against the window. “I mean, _look._ ”

“I’m looking?”

“The light. It’ll be right about perfect when we get to the mansion, I’m sure. We’ve been so lucky in getting here today, for real.” Ray smiles and hooks a finger into one of the pockets of Bob’s jeans, pulling him near. “Thanks.”

“What for?” asks Bob, wrapping an arm around Ray’s waist. “I’ve got no saying on what the light’s gonna be around the place, you know.”

“The trip. The pictures. All this. I know that you would have been happy to spend the hiatus in Chicago, watching TV and wearing slippers all day long all the same. So, thanks.”

“Truth be told, I prefer to take you to a picture trip all across America rather than watching TV with you. Illegal thrill aside, Gilmore girls, Ray. The Gilmore fucking girls.”

“Asshole. Will you ever let go?”

“You wish.”

They kiss, and to Ray it still feels like something’s melting inside his chest. It’s so stupid he never told anyone, not even Bob, but that’s the way it is, despite them being together since the Ice Age. By now Ray’s resigned about living in a perpetual hearteyes mode, which isn’t bad per se, not at all. It just makes him feel like a teenager dealing with his first crush, and he’s thirty-one. Oh well. There are worse things in life, he figures.

When Ray breaks the kiss at last, they’re both a little out of breath and half-hard – Bob’s dick is pressing against his thigh, and his pants are a bit too tight. “Maybe.” Ray clears his throat. “Maybe we could go out later?”

“You’ll lose your perfect light.”

“Whatever?”

“No, listen,” says Bob before kissing Ray’s jaw. His teeth nip the skin there, making him moan. “Now you go and take your pictures and shit, then we get back here and fuck, okay?”

“I want to blow you.”

“Be my guest, Toro.”

*

They eat a couple of sandwiches on their way to the mansion, and go exploring for a couple of hours, from the basement to (almost) the rooftop.

The info Ray found online told him that this place belonged to some rich people who then abandoned it, and that it’s been left to decay for about ten years. It isn’t as trashed as other places they visited during their trip – say, the abandoned asylum that they visited on their previous stop looked much worse – but time and stupid people took their toll already. Ray takes a shitload of pictures of every room while Bob looks around, pulling out a book and leafing through it for a while, or peering out of windows, up staircases.

Truth be told, Ray always get a tiny alarm siren in the back of his head whenever Bob gets out of his visual range ( _Lack of self preservation! Lack of self preservation!_ ), but he doesn’t want to treat him like a child and keep him glued to his hip. On the other hand, though, Ray doesn’t want to see him falling into a hole in the floor either ( _I just wanted to have a better look at the bottom_ , Bob’d tell the EMT while they strap him to a stretcher – or to the cops, since legally they have no right to go exploring abandoned sites), and so he keeps a close eye on him all the time. Pictures will come out less than perfect but whatever. Ray prefers to have not excellent pictures in his camera and a 70% healthy boyfriend more than anything else, especially since they’re going to have to deal with Bob’s wrist surgery when they get back home. He doesn’t really feel like adding a double bone fracture to the list.

Other than that, the place is great, at least for their exploring purposes. Part of the furniture is still there (and that makes for awesome shots), just like various stuff the owners didn’t bother to take with them when they left the place. Upon opening one of the kitchen cupboards, Bob finds a whole set of dishes stacked there, and the bookcase is half filled with old bound books.

When they leave the mansion at last, the display of Ray’s camera is showing the low battery warning and his memory card is almost full. He’ll have to download every picture on his laptop, but later on, or maybe tomorrow. Right now he feels pleasantly tired and satisfied about both his day and his life, so much that at some point during the walk back to the hotel, he links his arm to Bob’s. That earns him an odd look – they’ve been living together for two years now, keeping their relationship under wraps isn’t a top priority, exactly; they’ve just never been an overly touchy couple – but Bob doesn’t pull back or say anything, so it’s alright.

Once they’re in their room, with batteries recharging in a corner and the distant sound of water filling the tub in another bathroom, the TV switched on but on mute and the sunlight getting in from an askew angle, Ray joins Bob on the bed.

“I think--” he starts, placing his head on Bob’s belly just when Bob’s saying, “Did you--”

“No, okay,” laughs Ray, “what is it?”

“Nothing, really. You had fun today?”

“Yeah. I meant it before, when I thanked you for everything. This is a fucking great trip, Bob.”

“Uh,” says Bob and maybe he wants to add something else, but Ray rolls over and pushes his hoodie up.

“I still want to blow you.”

“I’m always game for anything that involves you and my dick. Just saying.”

Shaking his head, Ray opens the button of Bob’s jeans and unzips his fly. “Hips,” he says then, nodding when Bob raises them at once, giving him enough room to pull everything down. Bob is half-hard already, and even if Ray isn’t doing any better within his pants, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“Eager little boy, aren’t we?”

“Shut the fuck up and blow me.”

“You’re never gonna change,” says Ray and wraps a hand around Bob’s dick.

Now, Ray isn’t a porn star or anything like that. He’s learned to give decent head over the years, thanks to Bob and his thing for Ray’s mouth, but that’s it, basically. Still, he knows which buttons he needs to press to make him shiver and moan under his fingers, whether they’re in for a quickie in the morning, right before Gerard could knock at their door and ask them if they’re ready to go or they’re home with the whole night ahead of them. Ray just knows Bob like the back of his hand, the things he loves and the ones that turns him off in one-two-three.

For an instance, seeing him like that, working his way down and taking it in slowly ranks high on Bob’s top list. The way he hardens up into Ray’s mouth gives it away, just as his tiny thrusts or the way his legs are spreading further apart. No matter if they’ve just started, he’s holding himself back already, trying to keep still and letting Ray suck him off. Ideally – Ray knows it because Bob admitted it once – Bob would love to be passive until the end for once, just to see how it feels like, but at some point he invariably loses it and starts fucking Ray’s mouth in earnest, pulling at his hair and muttering obscenities as he comes.

Over the years it has become a game between them, one trying to hold back and the other trying to push further and further. As of today, Ray’s winning a bazillion points to zero, and judging from Bob’s tense muscles, he’s heading toward yet another easy victory. So, after tucking his hair behind his ear (he wants Bob to _see_ it all), Ray really goes for it, licking and sucking on the tip while his hand keeps on stroking at the base. Every once in a while he blows air on it and then goes down a little further, taking Bob’s dick deeper.

Seconds pass, stretching into minutes. By now Ray’s erection is pressing against the fabric of his jeans and he has to shift on the bed, sneaking his free hand down to palm it in order to gain some friction. He’s about to unzip his fly – he can push his own pants past his hips and keep on blowing Bob without missing a beat, been there, done that – when he feels Bob’s hand in his hair, pushing him down, and so he relaxes his mouth at once, letting him fuck it.

If Bob’s turned on by seeing him give head, Ray’s turned on by all this, by how Bob takes everything Ray’s willing to give him just to come hot and warm and deliciously obscene under his fingers, defenseless and not thinking about anything for a few moments. It’s good to see him like this – to have him like this, all to himself – and while Bob struggles to regain his breath, Ray licks him one last time before going up and kissing him, sharing his taste with him. He’s still hard, of course, maybe harder than before, and they’ll take care of it in a couple of moments, but in this very instant Ray feels satisfied all the same.

“You,” pants Bob then, placing a kiss at the corner of Ray’s mouth. His beard leaves a familiar burning feeling over there, and that makes Ray smile. “Come right here. Fucking love you, you know?”

“You moron,” says Ray, leaning over to kiss him back. “Of course I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost


End file.
